To Fly Again
by Desperado1102
Summary: He watched her. He watched her walk to work alone and come home to an empty, uninviting house.


He watched her. He watched her walk to work alone and he watched her come home to an empty, uninviting house. He watched her cry herself silently to sleep at night. He didn't mean to watch her, it was just instinct. He had been gone for too long and she knew he was dead. She knew the day he kissed her and told her he loved her was the last time. She knew the second his feet hit the deck of his beloved ship, he would never come back home. And yet, she was reluctant to admit it. She didn't want it to be true. It had been a year and she still didn't want it to be the truth. Still, there was nothing she could do.

She looked over to the chair he had left his hat on the last time he had been in their home. It still sat there. Waiting for its owner to come and claim it. She shook her head and her eyes rested on the two swords that hung above her fireplace. Hers and his. The hilts old and worn from battle and the tip dull. She went up the stairs of her grand house and walked into her room, shutting the door behind her. She walked over to the window and rubbed the sides of her arms. She looked around at nothing and smiled. She knew somewhere he was out there in his final resting place. And she hoped he was watching over her like he promised he would. She opened the window a little, out of habit and walked slowly over to bed, closing her eyes on the day and welcoming the dark that claimed her.

He watched the last light in the house go out before turning back to the drink in his hand. He sighed, looking around at the men surrounding him. There was an interesting conversation coming from the table next to him and being the scabrous dog he was, he listened in.

"'Eard the great Cap'n Jack Sparrow died, 'e did!" one man said and the rest gasped at the news. The bar became quiet at the revelation and he pulled the unfamiliar hat lower over his eyes, making sure his hair was tucked underneath securely.

"I doubt tha', Chancy!" another man from the corner shouted at the one who had said Jack Sparrow had died.

"It's true!" Chancy shouted back. Jack listened as the man told the tale of how he had died. How they had thought he had died. He winced as they told and retold the tale. Listening to other people die wasn't unnerving, but listening to his own death over and over again made him queasy. He wanted to rip off the stupid hat and pull out his hair, showing himself for what he really was. He wanted to jump up and yell. Anything to get them to stop talking about it. He finally decided he would just leave. He got up and in one swift, graceful motion, he was gone.

He walked the streets and kept his eyes low, avoiding eye contact with anyone and his feet took him to his own home. He looked up at the dim windows and sighed. He walked around the house and noticed her window was open. He bit his lip and nodded. Tearing the hat from his head and pulling off the heavy over coat, he began to climb the familiar terrace leading straight up to the window. His muscles still ached and the two bullets in his legs still screamed for him to stop climbing and take it easy, but this was all he cared about.

Despite the irritating pain surging through his entire body, Jack climbed and didn't stop. He peeked into the window and saw the moon illuminating her face. Something he hadn't seen in a long time. His heart lurched as he saw silent tears escaping her eyes. Even in her sleep she cried for him. Even in her sleep, memories of him assaulted her aching heart and played games with her tired mind. Even in her sleep she rolled over to the empty side of the bed, expecting to wake up and see his tanned chest underneath her. And even in her sleep, she knew he was gone forever.

He slipped into the open window and kneeled before her next to the bed. He looked at her, afraid to touch her and wake her. But he smiled, knowing she was okay. Thanking God he hadn't brought her with him that day. There was nothing he could do to stop the tears that spilled from his eyes now. They ran over his smooth cheeks and fell off onto his clothes. He took off his shirt and boots like he used to do when he would sleep with her and he climbed into bed next to her. She stirred, but didn't wake. He laid there for a few moments, looking at her face before he too fell asleep.

She woke up the next morning with the unfamiliar warmth of arms around her and smooth skin against her back. She turned around in the arms that held her and inhaled sharply as she saw his face. She rolled over so she was on top of him and looked down at him. He furrowed his brow as he felt the weight shift from the side of the bed to on his waist. He slowly opened up his eyes and they were met with her soft, startled pale brown eyes staring at him. She saw the redness of his eyes and the tear stains running down his cheeks. She noticed his red bandana and his black unruly hair. She saw his dark brown eyes twinkle at her and his full lips grace his face with a small smile.

"You're alive," she whispered, shocked. "Jack, you're alive!" she shouted and he pulled her down and kissed her for the first time in a long time. He pulled himself up and she sat on his lap, looking into his eyes, just staring. She held onto him tightly, hoping to whoever was up there watching over her that this wasn't a dream. Jack kissed her forehead and smiled.

"I love you, Angelina Sparrow," he said to her and she looked down to his left hand. He still had their wedding ring. She felt her tears run down her cheeks.

"I love you, Jack Sparrow," she said before she pulled his head to hers. Their tears mingled as they kissed passionately, holding onto each other. He wiped her tears away and she smiled.

"You do still have me hat and sword though, love?" he said and she laughed out loud and nodded. He smiled. "Good. Then we'll be usin' them soon," he said and she smiled broadly. All those nights she spent crying and alone was over. All the times she stole a glance at his battered old tri-cornered hat, were coming to an end. All those times she didn't have her partner with her while she practiced her fighting with the air, were going to change. Jack was back. No more tears, just laughter. The Sparrows were no longer grounded, together, they flew again.


End file.
